ninotaziz's Blog, page 2

My Monsoon…excerpt from NAGA

The north-eastern winds were becoming stronger and stronger until it developed into a full gale.  They arrived like a roaring tiger in the middle of the night. At times, the sound of it was deafening, you forgot time and place, it felt as if the storm that brought hail and fury would never end.    

I had forgotten the wavescrashing, hitting, arrivingagainst the wide beach
sandy white
at the edge of our little worldhow tiny we are, this spacecompared to the vastness
they travess
powerful windslike a tiger, roar ferociouslythe forces of the universe
supreme creation
to be so closeto the edge of time and matterwhere it does not matter
Every sunrise. Awakened.
Enlightened.

When the weather permitted it, I would see how the men looked out to sea, lounging with their backs against the wall on the verandah, smoking a roll of tobacco filled nipah leaf - longing to be back in their boats riding the waves. They did not speak, sometimes for hours.
But their gaze spoke volumes. They were content, for it was a time for rest.
The sea was like a drug that called out to the very soul. It whispered of adventure and played images of the vast open.  But beware! The sea severely punished those who forgot her or her mighty powers.  Even the lofty coconut trees shook this way and that in the wind, but they were hardy and did not give way to the master of the moment. 
***
I marveled at this life of bliss.
Life on land was unhurried, languid - full of grace. Life at sea was wrought with danger - a race against the tides, the winds, against time itself. 
When the monsoon rains and storms finally ceased, Pak Nakhoda readied his ship.  Soon, we were southbound.
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For dversepoets

This is an excerpt from my novel, NAGA - A Legend of Tasik Chini. I should not say more, but at least I am happy I have the chance to share a little bit about our monsoon. It is strange and magical, devastating and powerful.

The picture was taken in Terengganu, where this portion of the story is set, and the poem was inspired by the actual waves I heard on this beach the night we arrived.

The narrator however, is at a dangerous crossroad. To sin, or not to sin.

There was a Woman

There was a woman who wrote all night
We wonder why she wrote all night
Perhaps she wanted to do what she felt was right...

There was a woman who wrote all night
We wonder why she wrote all night
She wrote all night to capture thoughts
We wonder why she captured thoughts
Perhaps to remind those who forgot
Perhaps to stop the rot...

There was a woman who wrote all night
We wonder why she wrote all night
She wrote all night to capture thoughts
She captured thoughts to shape her actions
Perhaps she wanted to share the notion
Of all that was good and beautiful and ancient

There was a woman who wrote all night
We wonder why she wrote all night
She wrote all night to capture thoughts
She captured thoughts to shape her actions
She wanted to share the notion
Of all that was good and beautiful and ancient
Perhaps she truly believed
In the wisdom of the old manuscripts
Lie buried under fathomless seas
Unless we seek to unravel mysteries
Legends long past hold the key
To our coded history

It was never mere fiction
Fuelled by imagination

Copyright 2015 ©  ninotaziz
All Rights Reserved

The Hikayat belongs to all of us
To love. To share. And to cherish.

Season of Reflection

I 

haiku
a thousand dayswithout face or reflectionsense of self diminished

II 

haibun
We walk the hours that make up our lives. Talk to the minutes - the hand, the dial, the markers of time. Capture the seconds, stored for days, labeled eternity.
Time, past summeris measured in the flightof the butterfly, so free
We take the path that leads us home. Talk to the trees - the leaves, the flowers, the gifts of the seasons. Capture the fruits, ripened and sweet, labeled health.
seasons, past chaptersmeasured by flight of stairs, increasingly painful
We face the reflection that shows us truth. Talk to the man in the mirror - the eyes, the lies, the carefully painted image. Capture the truth, staring back accusingly, labeled proper.


III 

quote
to live is to be thrust into the sunlight, crying - and to leave in the glow of moonlight, sleeping.

Copyright © 2015 ninotaziz
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for magpietales and dversepoets

Dune dreamers

Painting by Daria Petrilli


if only you could seethe world I fear hiddenwe would sail away down 
the duncan idaho
march with fish speakerswho keep peace for love of humanity
Leto II

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It's World Book Day soon and so, this month I pay tribute to my favorite dreamers and thinkers.
For  magpietales

Carved in repose

He : I will stay by your side
She : Until ?
He : Until the world forgetsthe trees and forestthe stars forget to shinethe wind forgets to sigh
She :What kind of world would that be?
He :Ours.
She :Not mine. I need beauty to exist.

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For magpietales

THE MANY ROADS

Dedicated to my daughter, Inas, who just turned twenty

the many roads that you choose to takewill lead you to the unknownand what such excitement awaitsdiscovering little treasures of your own
do not stop to talk to strangersyet do remember to make new friendsdo not pick the wild red rosesbut linger over delicate white's scent
dreams pass us by like clouds that driftwhile you build your treehouse on sturdiest boughsand in this way, your life will be livedhopes and hard work and love... for now
hopes and hard work and love... for now

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For magpietales


Ever since Inas was ten, she decided she wanted to become an architect to 'build a treehouse hotel'. She is in second year university doing architecture and I miss her.

A HAIBUN | WIND

© 2014 ninotaziz

I
to understand the world and the how the wind lifts us up high, simply remove the elements and then -  perceive a momenta day, a month, a year
still endless summerno breeze to sooth tired limbsout on empty fields


II
to grasp the importance of the wind at sea, climbing mountainsladen with rain to nourish the earth - perceive a timea decade, a century, a millennia
no ships to sail acrossthe wide open seasno more oceans to conquer
and
crystal like droplets remain heavily floating uponraging waves

never to miraculously ride the wind to the highlands,
or turn to dew upon the grass in the morning sun


III
to imagine legends long forgotten, the absent windfails to carry tales around the world - perceive that traditiona story told at bedtime
who would take the princess seeking her loveto the West of the Moon -
or
don quixote would no longer have -
his imaginary foes

and
when the sun climbs the skyto play with cloudsflying horses ride no more

flying horses ride no more


IV
to grasp the importance of the wind, snaking through the forestno longer rustling in between trees - perceive eternity denied
birds groundedwith nest on forest floorseasy prey to all
imagine

our world without the caressing breeze, is not our world at all -



Copyright © 2015 ninotaziz
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for dversepoets

I imagine this is better as four poems. It seems a tad too clumsy being strung together like this. But the idea behind this poem was to show how the wind influenced so many aspects of our lives.
Our psyche. Our history. Our traditions.

***

I have made some changes. I hope it reads better.

Remember to play kites this weekend, everyone!

What lies beyond

morning dew disappearsthe sun wonderswhy should I appear
today
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Tess Kincaid brings us to Yorka haiku for magpietales

Fragile

Fragile is our existence of peace
headachebroken glassa cut in the gardenwords that are crass
sarcasmcracked egganswers that are vague
empty milk bottlemakes you fly off the handle
slipping on melting snow
Fragile is our existence
by ninotaziz
Copyright © 2015 ninotaziz
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For dversepoets

LEGENDS, AND THE TRUTH THEY TELL

the seas remain constantthroughout all milleniumlong after we are gonepeople, cities and kingdoms
but the lores remainto be called upon againlike the sea, they returnwe pray, never in vain
epics young and oldlessons of yesterday, retoldthe need to believekeeps them within our fold

legends, the truth we try to tellour visions of heaven and hell yesteryears' tolling bellsand that, they will teach us well
 and that, they will teach us well. 
Copyright © 2015 Zalina Abdul Aziz @ ninotazizAll Rights Reserved.

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For dversepoets